Up the Antique
by Wingurend
Summary: Peter is forced to clean the garage while Brian signs up for a poetry contest.


UP THE ANTIQUE

It's a beautiful Saturday morning in the Griffin house and everyone, but Peter, is seated around the breakfast table, eating in dozy silence.

Brian, hidden behind the local paper, mumbles to himself.

Stewie shoots him daggers, but says nothing.

Peter enters the kitchen cheerfully humming. -Good morning my wonderful family!- he warmly exclaims.

He then turns to Meg and greets her by tipping an imaginary hat. -Madam!-

-Well, someone is in a good mood today.- Lois replied, while the others largely ignored his presence.

-And why shouldn't I be?- he chirped and poured himself a cup of coffee from the machine.

-The sun is shining and I've got the whole weekend laid out in front of me, like a blank canvas, just waiting to be decorated with beer and cartoonish frivolity.-

-Yeah, that was what I was afraid of.- she replied with a tired voice and began to clear the table.

-Or you could clean out the garage, like you promised so long ago?

But Peter would have non of that and shot the suggestion down with his usual ironclad logic.

-No. I promised to love and respect you, you silly little thing. Nothing about the garage.-

-Goddammit!- yelled Brian suddenly and quelled the sound of Lois's capitulating sigh.

-I still can't believe we voted Trump president!- he continued and slammed the paper down onto the table.

The outburst does not impress Stewie. -Arhg! Here we go. All aboard the liberal express to doomsville!-

But Brian was not to be silenced.

-If only more ordinary people had turned up, this would never have happened.- he continued with a challenging look at Peter.

-Hey don't look at me.- Peter responded with his arms crossed and an expression of utter dignity. -I actually did vote. It's our civil duty, you know.-

Brian can't hide his surprise. -Really?-

-Yes- Peter said. -I voted for Trump.-

The family's collective jaw hits the ground simultaneously. -What?!-

Their reaction makes Peter giggle and confess.

-Nah, just kidding … I voted for that other fella.-

Meg picks up the newspaper and after reading a bit she says.

-Hey Brian. There's a poetry/spoken-word conference at the community center this Friday. And they even have a contest. Why don't you sign up for that?-

Brian ponders the proposal a few seconds before answering.

-I don't know Meg. I'm not really comfortable touting my own horn.-

Peter can't believe what he's hearing.

-Are you freaking kidding me?! … That's all you do when you think no one is watching! … It's like your number one go-to place.-

Lois recognize the misunderstanding and tries to stop her husband from looking the fool. -No Peter, that's not what that means.-

Peter ignores her and take another dig at Brian. -I mean; it's amazing that thing is still on there-

Peter looks surprised when Lois whispers something in his ear.

-Really? … Did not know that. But it doesn't matter; he does that too.-

Brian sighs and looks guilty, so Meg tries to encourage him.

-That's too bad. I really like your poetry, especially the one you wrote about the expression of internal suffering.-

The notion of anyone actually remembering his work makes Brian light up like an X-mas tree.

-Skid marks on the rug? Yeah, I guess that was pretty good.-

Brian is clearly convinced, but hesitates to agree, hoping for more praise.

When it doesn't come, he slams his paw down on the table and exclaims. -I'll do it!

Peter leaves the table and heads for the door sulking.

-Well, I better get started. If you need me I'll be frolicking in the garage.-

You can clearly hear him cussing under his breath as he leaves the kitchen.

...

Angry Peter is shuffling around cardboard boxes inside the admittedly overwhelmed garage. -Get married, they said … You'll be happy …You'll live longer, they said.-

Quagmire approaches the open garage-door wearing a white coat and a stethoscope. -Hey Peter. Wanna come to the mall?-

Peter shoots Quagmire a curious look. -The Mall … and do what?-

-I thought we'd get hammered and give away free gynecologic exams in the creepy isle with the toilets and the copy-machine?- Quagmire replied, almost shaking with giggity.

Even though Peter was dying to go, he knew he'd soon be in red-head water if he did and decided to do the right thing. -I can't.- he said, sounding like a grounded kid.

-I've promised Lois to clean out the garage … Maybe another day?-

Quagmire was a little disappointed, but understood his friend's predicament. This was, after-all, the reason he never got married himself. Well, one of the reasons.

-Ok. But you do realize this is a one off, right? The mall broads probably wont fall for that trick again after reading next weeks papers.- he said and left his friend to his chores.

Quagmire has hardly left before Joe, in his uniform, rolls up to the garage.

-Hello neighbor. What are you doing?

-Oh, hi Joe. Just pleasing the red dragon- Peter replied and sat down a box labeled "Palmyra heritage". What's your story?-

-Well, the captain is in Montana, visiting relatives, so we're giving the old evidence-locker a spring cleaning. Wanna come?-

Peter sighed loudly. Why was God pranging him like this?

-Sounds like a blast Joe. But I can't. I got my own spring-cleaning going here as you can see.-

Joe also attended the evidence-sweep alone last year and was determined not to repeat the embarrassment.

-Are you sure? There's all kinds of goodies in there; guns, drugs … Oh-oh! And if we're lucky; some of those tiny plastic cups street-hustlers use to hide the pea.-

But Peter was in a saintly mood and could not be persuaded. Why Joe left the garage, feeling like someone had let the air out of his tires.

Just as Peter thought things couldn't get more distracting, a loud noise from down the street caught his attention.

It wasn't until the Kiss tour-buss pulled up in front of the house he recognized the noise as the sound of rock & roll.

Gene Simmons slides one of the windows open and yell at Peter.

-Hey Peter! We're going on a tour around the world and we need a well-hung roadie who can hold his liqueur!-

-Oh! I'm half that guy.- Peter moaned and wiped away a tear.

He then turns to yell at Gene Simmons.

-No thanks Gene. I promised my wife I'd clean the garage and not to go on any spontaneous tours spanning more than two continents!-

The buss drives off with Gene hanging out the window giving him the devils horns.

-Sounds like lose Lois has tightened the grip!-

Peter returns to the boxes with tears now rolling.

...

Brian, Stewie and Meg walks up to the community centers main entrance.

They pause in front of the glass-door and Brian turns to Meg and say.

-Listen Meg, I really appreciate you telling me about the conference, but maybe it would be better if you wait out here.-

Meg does a double take.

-What? … Why? … Oh my God, you're embarrassed to be seen with me!-

And indeed he was. But he knew he had to come up with some other explanation fast. -No, it's just that … we need a lookout.

Fast isn't always good and Meg was not convinced.

-Why?- she asked, her eyes barely lines with mistrust.

-Because there's a good chance people in there have all read _Faster than the speed of light_ and they could freak out to see their hero up and close.

So I may need a fast getaway.-

You'd think Stewie was used to Brian's pompous ways by now, and perhaps he was, but that was no reason to stop pointing it out.

-Just so you know; that thing, right there, that's touting your own horn.- he said, voice dripping with venom.

Meg reluctantly agrees to wait outside.

-Ok, I guess. Just don't take to long. I've got a nose job scheduled in two hours.-

Brian -Oh, good for you.- Stewie -About time.-

Cutaway to:

Meg on a policeman's leash, sniffing the ground like a hound.

Back in real time, Brian is all go.

-Excellent! So if we suddenly comes barging out with an overexcited group of fans on our tail, well my tail, your job is to hail a cap and get us away safely, got it?-

-Got it.- she replied, less than enthusiastic.

Brian and Stewie enter a community center buzzing with life.

Everywhere you look there's books on sale and authors offering to sign them.

Stewie takes one look at the spectacle. -Man there's a lot of hipsters in here.-

Brian, who is now wearing a fedora and shades, agrees wholeheartedly. -Yeah, it's quite the circus.

They walk down the isle and past the stands housing the signature signing authors.

The first stand belongs to Consuela who sits beneath a banner advertising the title:

 _Just say no! A_ Guide to Stress-free Living by Consuela Consulente.

Stewie spots her first. -Oh look! It's Consuela. I didn't know she wrote a book.-

Next stand belongs to Lindsey Lohan. She sits beneath a banner advertising the title: _Just say yes!_ A guide to success in Hollywood by Lindsey Lohan.

Brian spots her first. -Oh look! It's Lindsey Lohan. I didn't know she could write a book.-

At the end of the isle they see Bruce sitting by a desk. A poster on the wall behind him is promoting the poetry contest.

Stewie steps up to the desk and call on Bruce. -Hey you! My friend wants to join the contest.-

Bruce slides the papers he's working on aside and lights up when he sees Stewie on the floor. -Oh a baby!-

-Yes-yes, I'm a baby. How very observant of you. Now as I was saying before you felt it necessary to state the obvious-

Bruce gets up from the chair and cut off Stewie mid-sentence, almost like he couldn't hear or understand him. -He's so adorable. Can I hold him?-

-I wouldn't.- warned Brian. -He's kinda difficult.-

Bruce hesitates to pick up Stewie. -Oh, difficult how?-

Brian doesn't hesitate to reply. -Spooky spider-walking chick from the ring difficult.-

The clearly shaken Bruce retreats back to behind the desk.

-Ok then. So you want to join our little tournament de' art?-

-Yes please.- Brian said and produced a sheet of paper from somewhere inside his fur. He hands Bruce the paper.

Bruce makes a note in his calendar. -Ok Brian Griffin. You have now been assigned a spot at eight o clock, right after Seamus. Make sure you get here early for the rehearsal.-

A glum expression glides over Brian's face as they walk away. -Seamus huh? He's good … he's damn good.-

...

Peter is in the garage holding a golden cube in his hands. -Hmm, don't remember buying this.-

Peter decides to ask his wife and shouts from the top of his lungs. -Lois! Did you buy a Rubrics cube from Tiffany's?!-

Lois immediately shouts back from inside the house.

-No! The only thing I have from Tiffany's is that silver tampon-case my sister gave me for my sweet sixteen … I'm married to a cheapskate, remember?!-

Peter begins to turn the cube while imitating Lois's nagging. - _I'm married to a cheapskate, remember_?-

Pinhead arrives in a puff of black smoke and ominous thunder.

-You called me.- hisses the demon.

A surprised Peter looks at the cube, then back at Pinhead.

-This is a telephone?-

Pinhead is a bit thrown off by Peter's complete lack of fear, but sticks with the script. -We have such sights to show you.-

Peter offers Pinhead a big smile.

-Thanks God. I was afraid I had to spent the whole day in this stuffy garage.-

Pinhead floats towards Peter and stops only an inch short of their faces touching.

Peter is as unimpressed as ever and begins to fumble Pinheads face.

-I don't know how you do it, but shaving around those things must be a nightmare.

And look at you, you're super smooth.-

Pinhead and Peter disappears in a puff of black smoke and thunder.

Only for Peter to reappear alone shortly after. He's badly beaten and his eyes are forced open by metal hooks.

-He took me to Rosie O'Donnell's bedroom.- he whines.

...

Brian and Stewie are in Stewie's room, practicing for the evenings event.

Brian puts his hand out like Hamlet and begins to recite his poem. -Young in years-.-

Stewie shuts him down with a hard slap in the face. -No! Bad dog!-

-Why did you do that?- Brian asked, rubbing his cheek.

Stewie instantly regret his overreaction.

-I'm sorry, I really am. That was totally uncalled for, even though you sounded and acted like a pompous douse.-

Brian accepts the apology. -It's ok Stewie.-

-No Brian, it's not ok. I've faced some challenges with my overseas investments as of late, but that's no reason to take it out on you.-

Cutaway:

To an office where Stewie, dressed like a businessman, is conversing with another professional.

Stewie asks the man. -So you're basically saying Europeans won't eat goulash anymore?-

-No. I'm saying they won't eat _your_ goulash anymore.- the man replies.

Back in Stewie's room, Brian gives Stewie a comforting pad on the back. -I understand.-

The gesture makes Stewie stop sniffing. -You're a good friend Bri … a good friend and a good dog.-

Brian resumes the Hamlet position, tail wagging. -Young in years, with fur of gray..-.

Peter is sitting on a box working his iPad when Chris enters the garage.

-Hey dad. How are you doing out here?-

-Not good son.- Peter says and put the iPad away. -You'd think there was an app to get this done, but no.-

Chris offers his help and recieves the elevator-look from Peter.

-Why not. You may have the physique of a poorly crafted ventriloquist dummy, but at least I'll have company.-

Chris ignores the insult and rolls up his sleeves. -So what's your plan dad?-

Peter crosses his arms to look important.

-Well Chris, so far I've moved all the boxes from this side to the other.

That didn't create the space I anticipated, so now I'm thinking about moving them back and see what happens.-

Chris scratches his head. -Well dad. What if, instead of moving everything around, we throw some of it out?-

Chris walks over to the worst pile of stuff and pulls out a harness.

-Like this saddle and harness. Do you really need it? You don't even have a lion anymore.-

The sight of the harness makes Peter nostalgic.

-How I miss Montecore. He was such a great way to get around.

And did you know; not once did I come out to find a ticket on that lion. And I pretty much left him wherever I wanted.-

Chris puts down the harness. -We'll put that in the maybe-pile.-

He begins to rummage again and pulls out a very old and very manual sausage-making machine. -What the hell is this?-

Peter looks bewildered. -I have know idea. The stuff in that corner is mostly my fathers.-

Chris turns the handle. -Ha-ha-ha! It works just like our last car!-

Peter steps closer. -Oh, wait! I know what that is. That's an old sausage-maker. And what's more; it could be worth a pretty penny.-

Chris laughs out loud and claps his hands uncontrollably.

...

The poetry contest in the community center is well under way.

Brian and Stewie is hanging around backstage, peeking through a crack in the curtain.

They're watching Seamus doing his bit and the performance makes Stewie looks impressed and Brian miserable.

They pull the curtain together and Brian begins to pace the floor.

Stewie tries to calm him down with some lukewarm support.

-Ok, he was not half bad. Now we know what we're up against.-

Brian stops pacing. -Not half bad! … He was fucking brilliant!-

Stewie can't contain his excitement and yells.

-I know! He makes me want to throw my diaper at him. You know; in a good way-

Brian is now sweating like a pig -I don't think I can do it Stewie.-

Stewie gets serious fast. -What are you talking about?-

-I can't go out there. No way, no how.-

Stewie realizes what's wrong with his friend. -Oh my God, you got stage-fright, don't you.-

Brian look at his feet. -Yes.-

-But why?- Stewie asks perplexed.

-He's good, but not unbeatable. Besides, we've done so many musical acts it's not even funny anymore. So why are you freaking out now?-

-I can't explain it Stewie. It's like every fiber in my body tell me not to enter that stage.-

Stewie has a whole afternoon invested in this, so failure is out of the question.

He steps up to Brian looking like a thundercloud.

-Listen here you miserable mud. We trained all day for this. You know the material like the back of your paw … There is absolutely nothing to be afraid off.-

Seamus finishes his monologue and receives a wave of applause.

Brian knows better than to plea with Stewie and accepts his fate. -You promise?-

Stewie places his hands on Brian's shoulders and whispers -I guarantee it.-

Then he shoves Brian through the curtain and onto the scene.

Brian stumbles to the lonely microphone waiting center stage.

He lifts it off the stand and taps it twice before moving it towards his mouth. He is just about to speak, when a spotlight crashes from the ceiling and crushes him to a pulp.

...

The Griffin Family, except Brian, is watching TV in the living-room.

Tom Tucker is wearing a pussy hat emblazoned with a Bruins logo. -I just don't see the harm Diane, that's all.-

Peter turns off the TV. -Ah, that could have been stupid, but I think we bailed in time.-

Lois's reply is short and sarcastic. -My hero.-

Peter continues a little offended.

-Well, Lois. I know you're being sarcastic, but perhaps a quick look at the garage will change your tune.-

Lois gets up from the couch and run for the garage.

Peter gives the living-room a searching look. -Where's Brian?-

Stewie is starring at the black TV screen with docile indifference.

-Yeah, about the dog. He ran into a bit of bad luck. He'll tell you all about it himself, in four to six months.-

Lois comes back to the living-room in an ecstatic mood.

-You did it! You really did it! The floor is so clean I could eat from it.-

-And you wouldn't be the first.- Peter replied, almost bursting with smugness.

Not knowing when to take the money and run; Peter goes on to explain the clean garage.

-Well technically it was the good people from Maid-Pro who did the dirty work.

But it was me who raised the money to pay for it.-

Lois smells a rat and demands to know how he _raised_ the money.

Peter looks like his on the wrong end of a witch hunt, but agrees to explain.

-I found an old sausage-maker from my fathers estate and thought it might be worth something.

So I took it down to John Harrington's antique sausage and charcuterie accessories.

You know John, his brother is Al Harrington from Al Harrington's Wacky Waving Inflatable-

Lois disappears into a fantasy bubble in which she is dancing cheek to cheek with a heavy-set lesbian.

Peter pokes a hole in the bubble to get her attention back and the dream melts away.

But Lois have heard enough and shouts.

-Oh my God! Can I please have the short version?-

Peter looks confused. -The short version?-

-Yes. Did you sell any of my things and did anyone get hurt?-

Peter is deeply offended. -No.-

Chris throws up a heavy bandaged arm. -And I learned how to make handmade sausages!

Peter looks caught and stutters. -That … That is completely unrelated.-

Lois looks mad as hell. -Peter?!-

Peter realize there's only one way to escape the predicament. Why he produces the hell-raiser cube from his pocket and begins to manipulate it.


End file.
